


Confessions

by lexthewreck



Series: Learning to Love Freely, Starring Little Bruce [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 07:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7968181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexthewreck/pseuds/lexthewreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce and Tony have been dating for a while now, and Bruce can no longer hold back a secret.<br/>***<br/>This 3000+ word monster is what happens when you are looking for any excuse to not work on the other stuff you have going on. This is my first work in this fandom, so please, let me know now what you think, good or bad.</p><p>EDIT: As of January 26, 2017, this fic has undergone INTENSE editing and touch-ups and has more than doubled in length.</p><p>EDIT (March 22, 2017): A scene was removed from the beginning and small grammatical errors were corrected.</p><p>EDIT (September 24, 2017): Formatting errors were corrected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in this fandom, so some feedback would be greatly appreciated.

The light of the computer screen glared harshly at Bruce and was echoed by the other technology in the lab, assaulting his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, taking a break from the formulas he'd been studying for the better part of three hours. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, a headache pounding in his temples and behind his eyes. He bit back a whimper of pain.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., would you please save this for me?” he asked, voice soft in the room filled only with the quiet hum of machines.

“Of course, Dr. Banner,” came the reply, just as gentle, the A.I. clearly aware of Bruce's current state.

“Thank you.” Bruce propped his elbows on the desk and rested his head in his hands. Around him, the lights dimmed and the computer monitors turned off. “Thank you,” Bruce murmured again to J.A.R.V.I.S. He was still often surprised by how J.A.R.V.I.S. would anticipate and meet Bruce’s needs without them having to be voiced.

“You’re very welcome Dr. Banner,” J.A.R.V.I.S. said, and Bruce may have been imagining it, but he thought that he may have heard hints of fondness and concern in the A.I.’s “voice”. “May I make a suggestion, Doctor?” J.A.R.V.I.S. asked, still quiet, and this time that was almost certainly concern.

“Go ahead,” Bruce said. He folded his arms on the table and rested his forehead on them. That was a little better. God, he was tired. Maybe he could just go to sleep down here. He could take a little nap.

J.A.R.V.I.S. said, “You appear to be suffering from a migraine, Dr. Banner. Perhaps you should retire to Sir’s and your bedroom for the evening.”

Bedroom. Bed. Quiet. Sleep. That sounded amazing. But the bed would be cold. Tony was in the workshop and likely wouldn’t come up for air until one or two in the morning, if that. Bruce didn’t want to be alone in their bed.

What he wanted was Tony to be there, holding Bruce. He wanted to feel the strength in Tony’s arms as he pulled Bruce against Tony’s chest, hear Tony’s voice whispering reassurance and words of love. He wanted to lie in bed, Tony wrapped protectively around Bruce as Bruce went to sleep.

A particularly intense pang of pain shot through Bruce’s head, strong enough to make his stomach turn and to force a little whine to escape his throat.

“Dr. Banner?”

Bruce heard the question, but he couldn’t answer. Didn’t care to. His head _hurt_ , and he just wanted quiet. And Tony. Where was Tony? Tony should be there. No, that wasn’t right. Tony was in the workshop. He had Iron Man things to do. That was much more important than Bruce’s headache. Bruce could deal with it. An Advil or a dozen and he’d be fine.

A hand touched Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce jerked in surprise, another whimper leaving him.

“Hey.” And that was Tony’s voice, low and worried. Tony was there. When had Tony gotten there?

Bruce sat up slowly and turned in his seat, and an embarrassing wave of relief washed over him at seeing Tony’s face. Tony’s brow was furrowed in obvious concern as more tears came to Bruce’s eyes, this time from a surge of happiness that was ridiculous for a grown man to feel just because his boyfriend showed up when he had a headache. Bruce couldn't stop himself from leaning forward to press his forehead to the taut plains of Tony’s abs through the fabric of the worn T-shirt Tony wore. Tony’s arms wrapped around Bruce, pulling him closer.

“Hey,” Tony repeated, voice still quiet, soothing. “It’s alright, Brucie.”

And it was, in a way. Bruce’s head hurt something terrible, and every little light and noise made it worse, and he was tired, so, so tired, but Tony was there, and that made it better. Bruce could handle the noise if it was Tony’s voice, and he could tolerate the light if he could see Tony’s face, and Tony was there, holding Bruce, even though Bruce knew Tony had projects going on in the workshop. Tony was putting those projects to the side just to be with Bruce, and Bruce felt something in him roll over and purr at that thought even as the rest of him felt guilty. J.A.R.V.I.S. had apparently called for Tony when he couldn't get a response from Bruce. Bruce brought his hands to clutch at the hem of Tony’s shirt to make sure Tony didn’t leave. Bruce felt overly emotional, knew he shouldn’t be clinging like this, but he couldn’t control it.

“Tony,” Bruce said, involuntarily sounding needy, and his voice sounded odd, like it was coming from down a tunnel. “Tony,” Bruce said again, partly just to see if his voice still sounded weird. It did.

“Yeah, Babe, I’m here. Let’s go to bed for a while, okay? Does that sound good?” Tony cooed.

Tony had a nice voice. A little too loud to Bruce’s head, but nice nonetheless. “Yeah. Bed,” Bruce agreed.

“Come on, then.” Tony tugged Bruce to stand, and Bruce swayed a bit before leaning on Tony. Tony took Bruce’s weight without complaint and started walking them to the elevator. The elevator made Bruce’s stomach roll when it moved, but it was over soon, and then Tony was leading them through the penthouse. Bruce sort of stumbled along because his feet didn’t seem to want to work quite right, or maybe that was his legs. Both? Bruce didn’t know.

The world tilted slightly, and then something soft was placed under Bruce. Why was Tony’s face at such a weird angle? After another moment of confusion, Bruce realized that he was in bed and that Tony was looking down at him. Oh. When had that happened?

Tony tugged Bruce’s shoes off his feet and pulled the blanket over him. Was Tony leaving? Bruce felt a wave of panic. Tony couldn’t leave. Then Bruce would be alone, and Bruce didn’t want to be alone. He was so tired of being alone.

“Shh, Brucie,” Tony said. “I’m not going anywhere.” Tony slid off his own shoes and lay down in the bed beside Bruce. That was much better. Tony opened one of the nightstand's drawers and rifled through it until he found what he was looking for. Turning back to Bruce, he ordered, “Open.” Bruce did, and Tony placed the pill in Bruce’s mouth. Bruce swallowed it without being told and received a kiss on the forehead for it. Tony then wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and that was just awesome. Pure awesome. Bruce was pretty sure Tony was made of pure awesome.

Bruce was entirely on board with this cuddling thing, and he wriggled as close as he could. All of his limbs felt ridiculously clumsy. Bruce let out an irritated huff at that. He calmed down when one of Tony’s hands moved to Bruce’s head and pushed gently so that his face was in the crook of Tony’s neck. Tony’s scent was more prominent now. Tony smelled good. Earthy and sweet and safe. The hand at Bruce’s head began stroking through his hair, and that was great. It felt amazing. Bruce hummed at that, relaxing against Tony’s body. He heard himself make some sort of noise, maybe words, but he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t really care.

He felt really sleepy. It was warm and comfortable, dark and quiet. And Tony was there. Maybe Bruce should go to sleep. That would be great. Bruce wanted to tell Tony thank you- for putting off his work, for staying with Bruce, for taking care of him- but he couldn’t quite get the words out. They ended up a bunch of scrambled syllables. Tony made a questioning noise, but Bruce didn’t answer. He was too tired. He decided to take a nap. He’d tell Tony when he woke up.

* * *

Bruce came to, and for a moment, he was confused. It didn’t feel like morning, and he didn’t remember going to sleep. Bruce shifted around slightly and felt Tony in front of him.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked, and it was with that question that Bruce remembered and silently cursed himself for his behavior. Aloud, he said, “I’m fine. Better.” His voice came out as a husky croak, rough from sleep. He coughed a little to clear it away.

“What happened?” Tony ran his hand through Bruce’s hair again, making Bruce involuntarily relax against Tony.

“A migraine,” Bruce said, going along with the assumption J.A.R.V.I.S. had made. “Sorry for going so clingy on you.”

Tony pressed a kiss to Bruce’s forehead, and his idle hand started stroking Bruce’s back. “It’s fine. I’m never going to turn down a chance to cuddle with you,” he teased lightly. “You’re sure you’re okay, though?”

“Yeah,” Bruce promised. He did feel better. He tilted his head up and pressed a chaste kiss on Tony’s lips. “I hope I didn’t pull you away from anything too important.”

Tony shook his head. “I was mostly just tinkering.” And Bruce let Tony explain what he was doing, listening with only half a mind, the other half wondering what the hell he was going to do. If he acted like that every time he felt under the weather, it was only a matter of time before he accidentally let his secret slip, and he couldn’t afford that.

* * *

"I'm serious, Bruce; just tell him," Natasha encouraged from across her kitchen table. She swiped a French fry through ketchup before continuing. "Best case scenario, he understands your needs, is willing to try them out, and it turns out he’s just as into as you are. Option two is the same as the first, except he doesn’t want to add it to your sex life. Option three: he's not into it at all, but he won't deny you getting that elsewhere. Worst case scenario is that he's a dick, and I kill him," she concluded bluntly, leaving no question that she meant what she said. She popped the fry into her mouth with a shrug.

It was the day after Bruce’s unexpected episode, and he had just finished explaining the incident to Natasha. The spy had long since deduced Bruce’s secre after she had noticed him being particularly jumpy. Since then, Natasha had been helping him in little ways: making sure he was eating properly, giving him orders when he needed direction. It never went any further than that; Bruce didn’t feel comfortable going into subspace with Natasha when he hadn’t at least offered that to Tony. It felt like cheating. So Bruce contented himself with only the slightest of comforts, still refused to talk to Tony, and drove Natasha to frustration.

Bruce swallowed a sip of his tea. "I wish it was that easy, Natasha. I hate lying to him, even by omission, but what if it ruins everything? I'm happy for the first time in years, and I don't want to throw that away by not leaving well enough alone." He forked up a bite of salad angrily.  
  
Natasha sighed and reached across the table to rest her hand on Bruce's forearm. The rare touch was enough to draw Bruce’s attention to her. "You won't be throwing anything away. I'm sure you and Tony will work out some kind of understanding."  
  
"Awfully optimistic of you," Bruce retorted, but there was no heat to his words. He was worried and scared, and he wanted more than anything for Natasha to be right, but he couldn't let himself get too hopeful because everything would fall apart like it always did, and then he would be alone _again_ , just as everything was getting better for him, and he wouldn’t be able to take it, and-  
  
"Bruce. Calm down, " Natasha commanded in a no-nonsense tone.  
  
Bruce obeyed without hesitation. He hadn't even realized he'd been hyperventilating. He focused on his breathing. Inhale: one, two, three, four. Hold for one, two, three, four, five. Exhale: one, two, three, four. Repeat.  
  
When he was reasonably calm again, he looked up and faced Natasha again. "I'm sorry," he murmured.  
  
"Don't apologize. Nothing happened."  
  
Bruce went to object, but Natasha interrupted. "Seriously, Bruce, don't. All you need to do is finish eating, retrieve your boyfriend from his workshop, and have a nice heart-to-heart with him. After that, you two can work things out for yourselves. And they will work out." She squeezed his hand and gave a supportive smile.

* * *

Bruce was standing in the doorway to Tony’s workshop, watching as Tony tinkered with his latest project, AC/DC blaring at an unnecessarily loud volume over the speakers. The music had masked his approach, so Tony hadn’t noticed Bruce yet. Bruce could still turn around, leave, pretend like nothing happened. This was his last chance.  
  
After a moment, Bruce asked, "J.A.R.V.I.S., could you turn off the music, please?"  
  
There was no verbal response from the A.I., but the music was silenced abruptly.  
  
Startled, Tony turned around and then beamed when he saw his boyfriend. "Brucie!" he exclaimed.  
  
"We need to talk," Bruce forced out.  
  
All at once, the color drained from Tony's face. His eyes widened and turned frantic. "What? Why?” he asked, his upset in his voice. “Are you leaving? What did I do? I can fix it; just don't leave, Bruce. I-"  
  
Hurriedly, Bruce said, "Tony, Tony, no, that's not what I meant. Poor wording on my part. I'm not going anywhere unless you send me." He walked across the room and pushed himself into Tony's arms, making himself as small as possible as he tried to soothe the genius.  
  
Tony embraced Bruce and said on a sigh, "Jesus, Bruce, don't scare me like that."  
  
"I'm sorry," Bruce said in response. "I didn't think about how that sounded before I said it. I do need to talk to you, though, about something important."  
  
"Yeah, sure, okay," Tony said. "Upstairs."  
  
Bruce nodded and pulled away, and the pair made their way to the elevator, which took them to the penthouse. They settled on the couch in the living room, turning to face each other, Bruce wringing his hands.  
  
Bruce didn't know how to start. He wished Natasha were with them, even if only to get the ball rolling.  
  
"Bruce?" Tony asked, his concern evident.  
  
Looking up, Bruce tried to force his face into a reassuring smile, but he was sure that what came out was more of a grimace.  
  
"Hey, come here," Tony said, opening his arms for Bruce, who immediately crawled into the space provided. Tony's scent soothed him a little. Safe, he was always safe with Tony. "Tell me what's going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours."  
  
"I, um, I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure how you'll react." His words were shaky with nerves.  
  
Tony made a little humming noise of concern. "Are you okay?”

Bruce hesitated. “I’ll be better after we talk."  
  
Tony rubbed Bruce’s back in circular motions. “Then just tell me,” he urged gently.  
“I’m not going to react badly.”

Bruce knew that Tony couldn’t promise that, but the words made him feel better anyway. He took a deep breath, held it a moment, and then bit the bullet, using the exhale to blurt, "What- what do you know about… ageplay?"  
  
There was another moment of silence in which Bruce could almost hear Tony thinking, and Bruce's heart hammered in his chest as his anxiety shot through the roof again. Apparently sensing his partner's distress, Tony squeezed his arms around Bruce almost too tight. "Easy, Bruce. Calm down."  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and focused on his breathing for the second time in as many hours. In: one, two, three, four. Hold, one, two, three, four, five. Exhale, one, two, three, four. Repeat.  
  
Once the artificial calm spread over Bruce and eased his tense muscles, Tony spoke again. "To answer your question, I'm familiar with the concept of ageplay on a surface level, but I've never done it myself. Have you?" There was no judgment in his tone.  
  
Bruce nodded into Tony's shoulder. "And I-I want to do it with you."  
  
"Okay." Tony's tone was thoughtful. "What do you want to do? Specifically, I mean."  
  
Bruce was slow to answer but eventually said, "I want to play with toys and watch kids' movies and shows. I want to wear footie pajamas, use pacifiers, and carry around a stuffed animal. I want to be bottle-fed sometimes, and I want to use diapers but only for urine. I want to be told what to do and have a bedtime, and I want to cuddle."  
  
"So it isn't just sex for you?" Tony checked.  
  
The lack of rejection made Bruce relax slightly. "No, not just sex."

Running his fingers through Bruce's hair soothingly, Tony remarked, almost casually, though there was some depth to his tone that said he was taking this seriously, "That all sounds fine to me. What else do you want?"  
  
Bruce teared up some. “I want you to take away my toys or put me in time-out when I'm bad. I want you to take care of me and hold me and call me your baby." Bruce's voice cracked slightly. "I want you to tell me I'm too little to do some things. I want to draw and color and play with stickers. Sometimes, I want sex, but sometimes, I don't, and I never want any kind of pain."  
  
Tony pressed his lips to Bruce's temple. "You said you wanted me to call you my baby."  
  
Bruce nodded, a few tears escaping his eyes, and he knew what was coming next.  
  
"What do you want to call me?" Tony’s voice was soft and accepting, and it was too much.  
  
"Daddy," Bruce said, voice breaking mid-word, and the word had him crying good tears, unable to believe that he had this, now, after so many years of desolation and loneliness.  
  
Tony shushed Bruce and hugged him to his chest and promised that everything was okay and that Tony loved him. Bruce clung and cried and was happy.

* * *

A little while later, when Bruce had calmed down, Tony said while still stroking Bruce’s back, “Is there anything else I should know about?”

“Well, there’s the specifics about how to change diapers, prepare bottles, baby food, and we should order props. We need to talk about your limits and desires. Safewords. We could fill out a consent contract if you’d like, but I don’t think it’s really necessary.”

“I don’t need the contract if you don’t. As for a safeword, is there one you have in mind or one you’ve used before?”

Bruce shook his head against Tony’s chest, the arc reactor a firm press. He didn’t want to use something he had with anyone else. Another second, though, and almost involuntarily, he suggested, “Assemble?”

Tony gave a little laugh that Bruce felt more than heard, “Assemble it is.” His tone was amused. “Limits…” Tony thought for a second. “I don’t want to make this sexual. At least at first. After, we can reevaluate, but for now, I’d rather not.”

Bruce nodded. That made sense.

“I don’t really know enough to desire anything just yet. Props… I’ll have J. do some searching around to find a discreet and good quality site before we buy anything, and you can show me how to do everything then. Sound good?”

Bruce nodded again and yawned. The emotional stuff and all the talking had tired him out. “I think I’m going to lay down for a while if you don’t have anything else you want to talk about.”

“Want me to come with you?”

As he stood up, Bruce said, “I’ll be fine; you can go back to the workshop.” He kissed Tony’s cheek. “See you tonight.”

* * *

Two days later, Bruce and Tony were on the couch in the penthouse living area looking at ageplay equipment. They’d been at it for hours. They’d started with toys since that was, in Bruce’s mind at least, the easiest. A vast collection of stuffed animals, blocks, stickers, and action figures had been selected. It was almost an alarming amount, but Tony had assured Bruce that, “I’m a billionaire. You could buy the collective stock of these sites and barely put a dent in my bank account,” and Bruce had relaxed somewhat, though he had to make an effort in order to not think about what Tony’s bank statement would look like. Now, they were looking at clothes, which was simple enough as well. "What do you think about this one?" Tony asked Bruce.  
  
Bruce looked at the indicated picture. It was a baby blue terrycloth, full-body onesie that zipped up the front. The little attached hood revealed that the onesie was white on the inside. After taking a second to imagine himself it, how the soft fabric would feel against his bare skin, Bruce nodded shyly, and Tony added it to the online cart with the others.

They moved on diapers, and Bruce picked a brand he’d used in the past and liked. Bottles came next, sparking a conversation about the different types and which kind was better than the other and why, and that continued into the pacifier selection. They called it a night after that, deciding that they wouldn’t get any of the bigger props until after they were more certain of things.

Again, Bruce was reminded of how amazing Tony was. He was taking everything in stride, not judging at all, but at the same time, he wasn’t making any promises about this, and somehow, that was even more important to Bruce.  
  
Tony must have seen something in Bruce's face because he leaned over and pressed the gentlest of kisses to the other's lips. "What's that look?" he asked softly.  
  
Bruce just shook his head and tried to put into his face how much he loved Tony.

* * *

When the equipment came, it was simple enough to teach Tony how to prepare the meal replacement shakes Bruce would drink when he decided that he wanted a bottle. Bruce only had to show Tony once before Tony picked up on it, and Bruce gave Tony recipes for a few different flavors.

The how-to for diapers was a bit trickier, but Tony spent most of his time working with his hands, and he refused to let it be a _diaper_ that stumped him. After a few times, sure enough, he managed to get the process right.

Following that, they picked a day that worked for both of them and cleared their schedules. As the day approached, Bruce waited for it with anticipation and slight concern, hoping that everything would be fine.

* * *

When Bruce woke up on the day they had set aside for their first scene, Tony was already awake and smiling at him. Only the smallest of hints of nervousness were in his features. He pressed a chaste kiss to Bruce’s lips and then set about helping Bruce drop to his little space. Bruce had told Tony what worked best for Bruce, and Tony followed that to the T. He ran his hands through Bruce’s curls, scratching lightly along Bruce’s scalp, and Bruce leaned into the touch, eyes drooping at the sensation. Another kiss, this time to Bruce’s forehead, made him let out a satisfied hum. Having just woken up and still sleepy mixed with the amount of time he had gone without this, Bruce wasn’t surprised that he could already feel the edges of his mind clouding, a promise.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tony said softly. “Are you ready to get up?”

Bruce whined deep in his throat and shook his head, turning to bury his face in his pillow. It was too early to get up. He was sleepy, and his mind was beginning to feel pleasantly blurry.

Tony chuckled. “Come on, Brucie,” he coaxed, “don’t you want to wear your new clothes?”

Bruce perked up slightly at that thought. He liked the new clothes Daddy got him. “M’kay, Daddy,” he said, sitting up.

“Good boy,” Daddy said as he wrapped his arms around Bruce. Bruce smiled a little at that and hummed at the warmth. Before he could fall asleep again, Daddy nudged him slightly, and Bruce pouted a bit as he crawled out of bed.

Daddy led Bruce to the bathroom and handed Bruce his toothbrush, toothpaste already on it. Bruce brushed his teeth without whining because his mouth tasted funny. He made sure he got all of his teeth before he spit into the sink and rinsed out his mouth. He ran the water in the sink to clean it, too. Daddy then used a washcloth to clean Bruce’s face, and the water was warm, so it wasn’t too bad. He stood still as Daddy cleaned around his eyes, but when Daddy took too long, Bruce made a point to shift from foot to foot.

“Someone’s impatient today,” Daddy said, but he didn’t sound mad. He sounded a little like he thought it was funny. He set the washcloth on the sink and said, “Alright, we’re done with that, Brucie.” Bruce sighed in relief, and Daddy laughed. Bruce frowned at him. “Sorry,” Daddy told him before kissing the top of his head. “Let’s get you changed.”

Bruce shuffled his feet slightly as he watched as Daddy set up the changing table. It only took a minute, and then Daddy said, “Come on, Baby.”

Bruce walked over to Daddy and was helped onto the table. Daddy took Bruce’s big boy clothes off and then told Bruce to lay down. Daddy put the clothes in the hamper and then said, “Lie down, Brucie.” Bruce did. Daddy got a diaper, and Bruce lifted his hips without being asked. As Daddy put the diaper under Bruce’s hips, he smiled and said, “Thank you, Brucie.” Bruce smiled and brought his thumb to his mouth. His thumb felt good in his mouth, pressing against the top of his mouth and weighing down his tongue. After Daddy secured the diaper, he helped Bruce sit up again. “Let’s get you dressed, Baby. Wanna pick out your own outfit?”

Bruce nodded and wiggled off the table excitedly. He grabbed Daddy’s hand with the hand he didn’t have at his mouth and pulled Daddy along into the bedroom. Daddy opened the closet and let Bruce look through. “Which do you want, Baby?”

Bruce ran his hands over all of the clothes. Some of them were softer than the others, and Bruce liked those more. He thought for a minute. The yellow pajamas had feet, but the blue one had a hood. He sucked harder on his thumb to help him think. “Blue,” he finally said.

Daddy nodded seriously. “Good choice.” He got the blue onesie out of the closet and then unzipped it so Bruce could step in. Bruce held on to Daddy’s arms for balance as he put first one leg and then the other into the pajamas. Daddy pulled the onesie up Bruce’s body, and then Bruce put his arms in. Daddy zipped the onesie, leaving Bruce swaddled in soft, cozy fabric. Bruce smiled at Daddy. “Ready for breakfast?” Daddy asked.

“Yeah,” Bruce said back, and Daddy led the way out of the room.  
  
"Do you want to watch cartoons while I get you something to eat?" Daddy asked Bruce as they entered the living area.  
  
Bruce nodded enthusiastically. He loved cartoons. "Looney Tunes!" he exclaimed.  
  
Daddy smiled at him. "You hear that, J.A.R.V.I.S.?"  
  
"Yes, Sir," was the answer, and the television was turned on, the show already playing.  
  
Bruce quickly settled on the couch and saw that a black, brown, and white dog plushie was there, waiting for him. "For me, Daddy?" Bruce questioned in awe.  
  
"Yeah, Baby, he's yours. What are you going to name him?"  
  
Bruce thought for a minute. Daddy had given it to him, so the name would have to be extra special. "Cão," he eventually declared, pleased with his decision.  
  
"That's a great name, Brucie! I'm going to go get you something to eat, and then I'll be right back, Sweetie," Daddy said and went into the kitchen.  
  
With Cão clutched in his arms, Bruce sat cross-legged on the couch and focused on the characters on the tv. Wile E. Coyote was setting a trap for the roadrunner because he hadn’t learned from the other times. After the roadrunner had escaped the coyote's traps, Daddy came back with a bottle. He sat on the couch and said, "Do you want to feed yourself, or do you want me to do it for you?"  
  
"You, Daddy." Bruce crawled the short distance between them and lay across Daddy's lap, head on the arm of the couch. Daddy smiled and tucked his left arm under Bruce's head and fed Bruce with his right. Bruce latched onto the nipple of the bottle hungrily and made a content noise when the taste of strawberry hit his tongue. Bruce watched the tv from the corner of his eye as he sucked his breakfast from his bottle, still holding Cão tightly in his arms. Occasionally, Bruce would look up at Daddy, and every time he did, he would see Daddy looking down at him with a smile.  
  
When Bruce finished the bottle, he turned away from it, letting the nipple slip from his mouth.  
  
"Finished?" Daddy asked.  
  
"Yeah," Bruce answered.  
  
"Sit up for me, Baby. I have to take this back to the kitchen and eat something myself."  
  
Bruce obediently, though reluctantly, moved down the couch, pulling the stuffed dog to his chest. On the tv, Bugs was tricking Elmer Fudd, and Bruce watched that while Daddy cooked.  
  
Daddy came back and sat with a plate of food in his lap. There were eggs, bacon, and toast and a cup of coffee was in his hand. It smelled good.  
  
"Can I have coffee, Daddy?" Bruce asked.  
  
"No, Brucie Baby, you're too little for coffee," Daddy said.  
  
Bruce pouted but didn't argue. He continued to watch Looney Tunes, but after a few minutes, he got bored. "J.A.R.V.I.S., can I watch Tom and Jerry?" he asked.  
  
"Of course, Young Master Bruce," was the reply.  
  
"Thank you," Bruce said when the program changed.  
  
Before he could get into the show though, he started to feel uncomfortable. He squirmed a while before he understood why.  
  
"Daddy, my diaper is wet."  
  
Daddy quickly took the last bite of his food and then set it aside. He stood and held his hand out to Bruce. "Come on, Baby; let's get you changed."  
  
Bruce took Daddy's hand and was led to the bathroom. As they walked, Bruce began explaining to Daddy that Jerry was really the bad guy in the show. Poor Tom was the victim. Daddy nodded along, agreeing with Bruce’s points. Bruce laid down on the changing table after Daddy had unzipped and pulled down the onesie. Daddy took off the dirtied diaper and wiped the remainder of the mess from Bruce's skin.  
  
Daddy added powder to Bruce's bottom before adding a clean diaper. He secured the ends and pulled up the onesie again before they went back to the living room.

* * *

Two hours later found Bruce sucking his thumb while staring intently at a pile of copy paper and colored pencils. He wanted to draw something for his daddy, but he didn't know what. He thought long and hard for a few minutes and then had an idea.  
  
When he was finished, he carried the picture to his daddy. "Daddy, look! I made it for you!"  
  
Daddy looked up from his tablet, and a smile flashed over his face when he saw the picture. "That is the best Vibranium atom I've ever seen, Brucie!" He set aside whatever project he was working on and pulled Bruce into his lap.  
  
Bruce wiggled happily. "Really, Daddy?"  
  
"Really. You're really smart and a wonderful artist. You make Daddy so proud, Sweet Boy."  
  
Bruce beamed and tucked his head into his daddy's neck shyly. "I'm glad, Daddy."  
  
Daddy ran one of his hands through Bruce's curls and the other down his back in soothing motions. Daddy's hands were big and warm, and Bruce couldn't help but relax into the hold.  
  
"I love you, Baby."

* * *

"Can I has a juice?" Bruce asked Daddy.  
  
"What kind do you want, Brucie?"  
  
After a moment of intense deliberation, Bruce said, "Apple, please."  
  
With a kiss to Bruce's head, Daddy went to get the requested beverage. Bruce popped his thumb back into his mouth while he waited.  
  
"Do you want your paci, Baby?" Daddy asked when he came back.  
  
Bruce nodded, taking a long sip of his juice.  
  
When Daddy put the pacifier in Bruce's mouth, Bruce crawled into Daddy's lap and rested his head on the reactor in Daddy's chest. Daddy tucked Cão into the embrace as well. "Sleepy, Baby?" Daddy asked.  
  
Nodding, Bruce made a noise through the barrier of the pacifier.  
  
"Go to sleep, Brucie Baby. It's about time for a nap anyway." He began to rock Bruce gently.  
  
Bruce closed his eyes and just focused on the sensations: the warmth from his daddy, the hardness of the reactor and the faint glow he could see from it even through closed lids, the smooth plastic of the paci pressing on his tongue, the soft fur on Cão. He felt safe and content. His breathing and mind slowed together as Daddy continued the gentle rocking motions.

* * *

When Bruce woke up, he was mostly big again, though his thoughts were still coming a little slower. He was tucked in a blanket burrito and surrounded by mounds of pillows. The pacifier was still in his mouth, and the plushie was in his arms. He had a moment of debating whether to finish growing up or to go back down, but he decided that he should probably talk to Tony.  
  
He got out of bed and went into the bathroom. "J.A.R.V.I.S.? Where is Tony?" he asked.  
  
"Sir is currently in the living area."  
  
"Will you please let him know that I will join him in a few minutes?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Bruce undressed from the onesie and disposed of the diaper. After putting on a purple button-up and some khakis, he made his way to Tony.  
  
The billionaire was sitting on the couch and watching the bedroom door for Bruce, who immediately sat beside Tony and leaned against him.  
  
They were quiet for a while before Bruce asked the question that was burning him. "So. Thoughts?"  
  
Tony hummed. "I think you make the cutest baby ever."  
  
Bruce snorted but felt relieved all the same. "So you aren't... freaked out?"  
  
Tony shook his head and pulled Bruce into his arms. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily. I...I liked taking care of you. Knowing that you needed something and that I could give it to you. That you trusted me with this part of you..." Tony shook his head. "It means more to me than I could say. I'm not saying that we start doing that in bed, now, but in the future... maybe."  
  
"What did I do to deserve you?" Bruce murmured into Tony's shoulder.  
  
"I think that should be the other way around, Babe." His voice softened further, and he pulled Bruce's head from Tony's shoulder. Securing the eye-contact, Tony said, "I love you."  
  
Bruce smiled and leaned in for a kiss.  
  
Yeah, he thought. It was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So... Um... What do ya think? Again, this is my first Avengers work, and my first abdl, so I'm nervous. 
> 
> Also, if you have any suggestions for this series, let me know. I'm already planning on doing this one from Tony's POV. Does that sound like something you'd like to see?
> 
> Auf wiedersehen,  
> lexthemess


End file.
